by Con Riley
Yes, Theo decided, Morgan would love him, then he’d tear his argument apart, then he’d love him some more.
They discussed the reality of the intern spot, and Joel nodded his agreement to basically file and copy for six weeks or so.
“Will that blond dude be starting with me?” His ugly-gorgeous face was suddenly immobile, utterly focused, until Theo nodded. He cracked another huge smile, saying, “Sweet!”
Theo shook his head. “I’m not sure that you two will have much in common. Maybe you can learn how to be serious from Evan.”
“Maybe I can help to loosen him up a little instead. Hey! Maybe I can loosen you up while I’m here.” He pulled out his cell phone, placed a call, then strode to and fro across the room. Theo looked on, wondering how exactly the conversation had moved on from Joel talking his way into a job he showed zero aptitude for, to him talking with his mother on his cell about deep-tissue massage.
Joel fired questions at Theo while he talked and walked around the room: How exactly had Theo injured himself? What was his normal course of treatment? How long did episodes usually last? Who was the dude in all these pictures?
Theo answered them all, even the last one, caught out by Joel’s rapid-fire questioning.
“That’s my partner, Ben.” He was relieved when Joel moved on, reacting neither positively nor negatively to information Theo wouldn’t usually share with a stranger. Joel spoke with his mother, then instructed Theo to take off his shirt.
“What? No!”
“Here, talk to my mom.”
So, somewhat reluctantly, Theo found himself lying on a sheet that Joel Hudson, a young man he hadn’t even met an hour before, had found. He’d spoken to his mother, who had told him—at great fucking length—about her business as a sports massage therapist. Joel had learned at her knee, and Theo could rest easy in his hands. Theo wanted to rest easy, but as he listened to the woman, he heard Joel opening and closing cupboard doors. When he came back to the living room clutching a bottle of Ben’s best herb-infused olive oil, Theo closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, Joel was on his knees in front of him.
“I promise you’ll feel better.”
Theo shook his head.
“You don’t want to feel better?” Joel looked confused.
“I do, it’s just… not what I was expecting to happen today.” Theo inched toward the edge of his seat, determined to show the newest intern out.
When Joel started speaking again, Theo found himself raising his arms as his shirt was gently pulled over his head. Then he found himself first kneeling, then being helped down onto the sheet that had been thrown across the rug. Joel’s words made him feel like he was dreaming or overmedicated—high, even. It was the only explanation.
“Now that I’ve got the internship, I’ll tell you the real reason I applied. All the other stuff was true, I do need the experience. But I guess I could have gotten that anywhere, maybe even somewhere related to my field.” Theo nodded; that was probably true. A lot of nonprofits were huge corporate-style operations.
Joel’s hands were warm against his skin.
“You know the dude who panhandles down at the corner of Cherry Street and First?” At Theo’s silent shrug, he expanded a little. “The dude with dreadlocks and a shopping cart?” Theo nodded slowly. He recognized the description. He’d sometimes seen a guy like that outside the coffee shop near there. “Well, he comes to the project I volunteer at. Not all the time, just when the menu appeals to him.” Theo quite liked that—a discerning hobo.
Joel continued. “He told me that you were one of the good guys, and that good guys were rare in the business district.” Theo wasn’t sure that was true at all. At least it didn’t used to be. Maybe his company had become a little more mercenary recently. He thought for a moment about other department managers, seemingly unconcerned about the cuts they had to make. Then he thought about the fact that staff in his department didn’t voluntarily leave. Staff retention had never been an issue for him.
Shrugging again, then wincing some more, he encouraged Joel to continue his story. The oil trickling along his spine felt cool and soothing.
“He said that he asked you for spare change one day last winter, but you gave him your coat. It was a good one: down-filled, waterproof but lightweight. Too good to give away, he said.” Theo shook his head. There was no way that happened; he would remember.
“He only wanted some cash, but instead of handing him a buck, or telling him to get a job, you took off your coat—he said it was just starting to sleet—and gave it to him. Then you pulled out your wallet and gave that to him also. That’s how he knew your name.” Theo shook his head again, only this time he hesitated a little.
He remembered looking for his wallet for days and days, driving himself completely frantic. There was a photo in the little clear insert inside, of Ben perching on his lap in one of those tiny passport photo booths. They were smiling right at each other. Young and in love. There had been another version inside Ben’s wallet; only in his photo, they were kissing. They’d squeezed in a passport photo booth in Milan the first summer they met, and kissed like crazy with only a thin curtain dividing their passion from the rest of the world.
Ben’s wallet had been destroyed in the fire after he crashed his car when his heart attack struck. It drove Theo crazy for a few days that he couldn’t find his own until it was handed in to the reception desk at the office.
He had no memory of giving it to a stranger.
None.
“He told me that if a dude can act in kindness, when he looked like he could do with a little kindness of his own, then he’d probably be someone good to work for. So here I am.” Theo felt firm fingertips tracing their way down his spine, chasing the oil. “I take advice from alcoholic hobos, and I’m going to take your pain away. Consider it a gift from a mutual friend.”
Theo shut his eyes until Maggie arrived. He didn’t try to explain the inexplicable. It all seemed pointless. Just like he didn’t bother trying to understand why he couldn’t remember giving his best winter coat away—it sounded like the one Ben had bought him the last time they skied in Vail—to someone asking for spare change nearly a year before.
He had already learned that grief stole stretches of time, but he was almost certain that couldn’t have happened. Surely he hadn’t been that outside his own head that he’d lost the whole episode?
After he showed Maggie out later, Theo looked through every single closet, drawer, and cupboard in his apartment.
His winter coat was gone.
Chapter 7
THEO watched his mother work her way around his kitchen on Sunday afternoon, nodding as she told him off for not calling sooner. He explained that he was feeling so much better. That Joel kid had healing hands all right. In fact, Theo felt so much closer to normal that he didn’t even find the way his mom casually nosed through his pile of mail annoying. He chose to ignore the way she split the pile into two—his and Ben’s—before pushing his pile toward him.
Reaching over, he took Ben’s small pile of mail and opened it first. It still felt vaguely wrong to read someone else’s mail. At least this time it was nearly all junk. He hated the weekends that started with notifying people that their letter wouldn’t ever get read by the intended recipient. His mom moved on to clearing the kitchen counter. If he thought she wouldn’t take it as a criticism, he would have commented that Ben had been just like her when it came to his kitchen. He never stood still when he could be moving around, never left piles of stuff on the counter like Theo did to mount up ’til the weekend came around again.
He’d say, “Deal with it now, tesoro, deal with it right now, then we can go have fun, yes?” Or, “Why wait? You might miss a party if you wait to open your mail. A party, Theo.” Then he’d shake his head as if the concept of missing a chance to socialize was just beyond belief. Theo used to put off opening his mail while Ben grumbled his way around the kitchen, making lists.
Ben would never make a single shopping list, despising one-stop shopping in huge stores with their prepackaged food shipped in from Lord knows where. Instead they would have lunch out somewhere, usually with friends, then lose hours dipping in and out of little specialty food stores, farmers’ markets, and his favorite wine importers. They’d come home late in the afternoon, just a little worse for wear, and Ben would arrange himself across their huge couch—undoing his shirt, fingers running up and down the trail of dark hair below his navel—then tell Theo that he could help himself, do whatever he wanted, just as soon as he was done with his mail.
But while his mom watched with her lips pressed tightly together, Theo took his time and opened each and every piece of Ben’s junk mail before starting on his own. She sighed and turned back to the oven, then removed a steaming pan of her homemade mac ’n cheese.
Theo couldn’t help groaning. “Smells so good, Mom. Thanks.”
It did smell amazing.
He’d grown up on a diet heavy on cheese, his mom insisting that it was good for growing boys. Now mac ’n cheese, grilled cheese sandwiches, and cheese with crackers or with slices of crisp Washington State apples always took him right back to childhood. In fact, he loved his mom’s version of mac ’n cheese so much that he’d raved about it to Ben when they first shared his room in an off-campus student house. Ben’s horror, when he saw one of Theo’s housemates adding orange powder to a boxed version, was comical.
Ben’s English had been really good when they met, but he didn’t understand, or even hear, the intricacies of American nuance, let alone grasp the importance of nonverbal communication, for years. So perhaps it was inevitable that Ben had offended his mother deeply the second time they met. Theo had hoped that things were going to go better the second time around as they sat down to lunch at the lake house together. That hope had died when Ben shuddered in his seat as she announced that the mac ’n cheese was nearly ready.
Theo knew Ben hadn’t intended to hurt her feelings. He had only been thinking of that orange powder.
His mother hadn’t said a word, politely ignoring her guest’s reaction. Only the sharp clatter of her fork, put down somewhat harshly as Ben described the virtues of Italian cheeses, told Theo that she saw his conversational topic as a personal slight. She had no idea back then that Ben questioned everything relentlessly. What is this made from? Which cheeses do you use? More than one type, yes? Why don’t you try it with parmigiano to finish next time?
Theo tried to explain the cultural difference later as he helped clear away in the kitchen. His mom had washed the dishes vigorously, scouring the pan with what bordered on violence, before turning with a small, tight smile.
“You still like your mother’s cooking, right, Theo?” He had nodded, then shaken his head.
“You know I do, Mom. Ben loved it too. Did you see how much he ate? He wouldn’t have been so interested in the recipe if he didn’t think it was delicious.” Maybe he should have tried harder to explain that Ben’s effusive curiosity was innate and also completely normal in his home setting. It might have been a chance to build a bridge between the people that loved him. Perhaps things would have been different if he’d been able to explain how Ben’s unrestrained expressiveness was a family trait.
Theo remembered feeling something close to shock after his first meal at Ben’s parents’ house. The volume of conversation around the table had been incredible, and the way his brothers—all five of them—would lean over each other to insert their own opinions had been somewhat intimidating. When he thought back over the years to their annual trips to Milan, he recalled with great fondness that noisy gang of men who all had something to say about everything, just like their oldest brother.
Theo sat in his own Seattle kitchen, watching his mother dish up a serving of the American classic, and felt sick with longing for Italy.
Sick with it.
He’d give pretty much anything to sit between Ben’s brothers again, letting their arguments and almost constant mockery roll around him as he ate.
Later, while his mom was grocery shopping for him, he watched the game with his dad. Theo felt himself begin to slip into one of those pointless, regretful thought loops again. He remembered his mom washing the dishes with fiercely reined-in temper after their first meal together at the lake house, while they both watched his dad and Ben standing at the bottom of the jetty, through the kitchen window.
Ben had been gesticulating wildly as he spoke, which was completely normal Ben behavior. Theo had almost been able to imagine the conversation. His man would have asked rapid-fire questions about the lake, the boats, and Theo’s family home. Then he would have started with questions about the neighbors. Who was related to whom, who worked where? There really wasn’t a single subject he wasn’t interested in, and he never seemed to forget the most random detail.
He imagined that his dad had just listened. His mom was the talker in their partnership.
So he sat in silence while his father half dozed and half watched the game, pointlessly thinking about how much he missed Ben, until the glint of an olive-oil-colored sunbeam caught his attention. The light from the window hit the bottle Joel had used just two days before. Theo had felt so much better after Joel had rubbed the tension clear out of his back. He didn’t want to sink back into feeling tight and constricted again—inside or out.
Excusing himself, Theo slowly walked across to his study and fired up his PC. Before he could second-guess himself, he hammered out a quick e-mail to Morgan, asking him to please get in touch.
He explained that he greatly enjoyed Morgan’s company. He couldn’t explain exactly why an Internet stranger had become an important part of his day, but he had. He just had. A week without him seemed too long. Also, Theo explained that it was far too easy to try to manage on his own. He’d had a year of that already, so this was him speaking from a place of experience. He’d love to hear from Morgan again, whenever he was able, but most importantly, he’d just appreciate knowing if he was okay.
That was all.
Not giving himself a moment to change his mind, he logged into Ben’s old e-mail account next, then copied his contacts. It took him a while, but he finally figured out Skype. When his call was accepted, he found it hard to focus on the familiar face that filled his screen. His eyes blurred as he said ciao to Ben’s youngest brother, Marco. They blurred even more as the screen filled with more of his brothers’ faces, all at their parent’s place for a noisy Sunday meal.
His study filled with wild Italian and broken English, as for only the second time since the funeral, Theo greeted his other family.
When Ben struggled to perfect a second language as an adult, he used to double check his word choices relentlessly and couldn’t understand why there wasn’t an American version of ciao. He said that it worked just as well for hello as for good-bye. Besides, why would you say good-bye to friends or family? Good-bye was kind of permanent sounding, to his ears at least.
Right then, at his desk in Seattle, Theo was glad that he had never said good-bye to Ben’s family. He had said ciao instead when they left, and they said ciao again now, as if he was still part of their lives.
Ben had been right.
Good-bye was far too permanent.
MONDAY brought the new interns to the office.
Maggie had them corralled in the break room until Theo was able to hold an impromptu meeting with the regular staff. It was good to catch up. They could see the still-awkward way he held himself, and offered their sympathy. Next he quickly talked them through the newest recruits, explaining that this year they were going to do things a little differently. That news was met with much eye rolling. Everything was different in the office this year.
Theo couldn’t help noticing that some of them had changed cubicles. Now his remaining team all worked right next to each other, as if they’d circled their wagons against further attack. He couldn’t really blame them. So he took some time to talk through their cur
rent projects, assessing who needed assistance as a matter of priority. Then he asked them all to use a whiteboard triage system so the new kids could see who needed assistance most urgently.
Theo was sorry that he’d lost a week. He could see that his own injury had hurt them also.
As soon as his team was settled, Theo went to meet the interns. He’d chosen three bright business students who already had some corporate experience, as well as Heather, David Daly’s boy, Evan, and Joel Hudson.
Evan looked so extraordinarily serious. Honestly, uptight didn’t even come close as a descriptor. His lips were tight white lines on an already pale face, and he clutched a pen as if he were about to go into battle and use it as a weapon. Theo looked around the break room, counting heads, then told the others to talk amongst themselves until the final new recruit arrived.
A few minutes later, Joel burst in—hair half combed, but with his shirt pressed, at least—apologizing for his tardiness. Instead of slinking to the back of the room or sitting quietly while Theo spoke, he launched instead into a rant about the company vending machines in the hallway. Did Theo realize that there was nothing with any nutritional value in them? Those breakfast bars were all additives and sugar, and the ingredients in the noodle cups were bordering on worse.
He wanted to know if there was a staff cafeteria, and if there was, did it have a daily vegetarian option on the menu?
Theo blinked.
The other interns looked at each other, smirking.
Evan pressed his lips a little tighter.
Noticing Evan, Joel strode over and lightly punched him on the shoulder, saying, “Hey, I called you. Didn’t you get my messages?” Before Evan could reply, Joel pulled his borrowed interview tie from his pocket and presented it to him with a flourish.
“Thanks for the loan. It brought me luck.”
Before Joel could continue speaking, Theo launched into his presentation, welcoming them to the company. He explained that their first day would consist of an orientation session with all the new interns from the other departments. Then they would sit through a safety at work video. Once that was done they were to come back for a group lunch in the break room.
